


Pitch's Litter

by Yevynaea



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Families of Choice, Gen, Unconventional Families, Werewolves, werewolf pups
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yevynaea/pseuds/Yevynaea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pitch never meant to become part of a werewolf pack, and he certainly never meant to adopt a litter of werewolf pups, but sometimes accidents work out for the better.</p><p>Of course, the Guardians just have to ruin everything, don't they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kamaria

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hilaryfaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hilaryfaye/gifts).



            Pitch never really _meant_ to become part of a werewolf pack. He was watching (stalking) a group of young campers on a night hike, making the children believe that there were monsters in the woods, making them think their camp counselor was getting them lost so they’d never get home. The kids’ terror grew, and Pitch breathed it in, grateful for the strength it provided him. He’d only recently gotten the majority of his Nightmares back under control, and he needed every shred of fear he could find if he wanted to get his strength back up. It was only once the children had reached the cabins and were safely inside again that their minds quieted, and Pitch left.

            Following the nearest trace of fear he could sense, he slipped silently through the lush green forest. The night was quite chilly, as nights in Colorado so often are, despite it being only August, but Pitch didn’t mind the cold. It only served to remind him that he was _there,_ that he was free and not surrounded by Nightmares again.

The trail of fear led him to a clearing miles away from the nearest road, where a jeering crowd all had their backs to him. There were about three dozen people gathered, all dressed in ratty clothes that hadn’t been washed in a long time, all standing in a circle facing inward, all shouting wildly at whatever was going on in the center of the clearing. They seemed excited, but from many of them there were small twinges of fear, leading Pitch to think that whatever was going on was probably violent. He stayed in the shadows, thus making himself nearly invisible should anyone look his way, and moved closer to the crowd so he could look over their shoulders at what was happening.

            At the center of the clearing there were two huge wolves—each nearly 4 feet at the shoulder—fighting each other while the crowd cheered them on. _Werewolves,_ he realized, and indeed as he looked around he noticed another dozen wolves in the crowd, barking and snapping just like their “human” kin hollered and jeered. Pitch watched with the crowd as the two fighting wolves wrestled in the grass, their thick fur matted with blood and dirt.

            One wolf was smaller than the other but perhaps a bit more agile, while the second looked stronger but more about power than grace or speed. The small wolf hurriedly scrambled up and stepped back from its opponent, a wound in its flank leaving a thin trail of fresh blood that stood out against the moonlit grass, but the larger wolf was already leaping forward for another attack. With a yelp, the smaller werewolf fell, held down belly-up on the ground with the other wolf’s snapping jaw inches from its throat. Pitch breathed in deeply; the injured wolf’s fear was almost tangible for a moment. The stronger wolf barked harshly, growling warningly until its fallen competitor exposed his throat to show that the larger werewolf was dominant. The crowd cheered, and Pitch found himself smirking at their excitement.

            When the small wolf was released he ran out of the circle, and a few of his kin began to tend to his wounds. The victor of the fight let out a triumphant howl, which the entire crowd quickly took up as a new challenger stepped forward. This new fighter, a female, was small and lithe just as the first had been, but early on in the fight she proved herself to be quick enough to make up for her lack of strength. She ran circles around her opponent, dodging clawed swipes and only moving in to attack the other wolf when she was sure she had a chance to leave a mark.

            “Kamaria! Kamaria!” Someone in the crowd began to chant, and the others began to join in. Pitch guessed that it was the she-wolf’s name.

            He watched, never feeling much fear from Kamaria as she fought, even when she was finally caught off guard by a well-timed lunge and pinned down by her competitor just as her predecessor had been. But still she fought back, both against her own growing fears and against the other fighter’s claws digging into her shoulders. When the stronger wolf barked at her, she barked back, refusing his dominance.

            The crowd went quiet for a split second, then resumed their shouting with even more fervor, distracting the larger fighter with the sudden changes in volume. Kamaria used this to her advantage and quickly rolled to the side so that now _she_ was above her opponent, claws in his matted fur and teeth snapping dangerously close to his throat. She barked, nipping violently at his neck when he growled stubbornly, and the large wolf had no choice but to bare his throat in submission. When Kamaria stepped back, the other ran off to get his wounds tended, and Kamaria stood in the center of the circle as victor.

            Kamaria, unlike the previous winner, didn’t howl. She remained silent, calmly watching the crowd while she waited for a challenger. Finally, as her gaze swept over Pitch, it stopped. She stared right at him, and as many of the other werewolves turned to face him as well he realized that sometime during the fight, he’d stepped out of the shadows without noticing. _Damn!_ Pitch prepared to leave, hurriedly turning away from the wolves and stepping back toward the shade, when a voice called,

            “Wait!” Pitch turned around again to find that Kamaria had shifted, and was now accepting a ratty cloak from one of her kin so she could cover herself. The young woman was slender and lithe as she had been as a wolf, and her bright golden-brown eyes watched Pitch with a calculating emotionlessness. Her hair fell in somewhat matted clumps around her face, but Pitch could see that underneath the mud it was the same golden-brown as her fur had been. “You’re on our land, stranger.”

            “I was just leaving.” Pitch said flatly, keeping eye contact with the she-wolf as she stepped up to stand in front of him.

            “You’ve trespassed on our territory; if you leave now you will be only a trespasser. An enemy. We usually let humans get away with doing what they want, but you are no human. You must play by our rules.” Kamaria warned, a small smirk playing around her lips. Pitch rolled his eyes.

            “I don’t care much for your so-called rules, and I have no intention of ever returning here, so what does it matter?” He inquired, calling a small fearling to him. He let the fearling swirl around his fingers, watching it as if disinterested with the wolves, and Kamaria grinned deviously.

            “You’ve been feeding off of our fear, haven’t you, Fearling King? Repay the pack with a show.” She suggested. Pitch raised an eyebrow.

            “A show?” He asked bemusedly, waving the fearling away.

            “A fight.” Kamaria elaborated. “If I win, you leave and never return,”

            “I was planning to do that anyway.” Pitch interrupted, but Kamaria shushed him.

            “And if you win,” She continued, “You’ll have earned a place in the pack. You will have the choice to come and go from our land as you please, and we will fight at your side should you be threatened while in our territory.”

            Pitch mulled over the she-wolf’s words, and after a long moment he finally made a decision. He extended a hand toward Kamaria and she shook it, the self-satisfied grin never leaving her face. Her pack resumed their cheering from before, ushering Pitch into the circle along with Kamaria.

            The woman slipped off her tattered robe shamelessly before shifting. Then the wolf watched Pitch expectantly, along with the rest of her kin. Taking a deep breath, Pitch drew on a power inside of him he hadn’t used in centuries. To all who watched, he seemed to melt into nothing more than a shadow, formless and ever-changing, before his image solidified again, now a wolf instead of a man. Pitch hadn’t changed his shape in many, many years, and he was unprepared for how strange it felt to be in a non-human body again. Nevertheless, he matched Kamaria’s movements as she circled him, fur bristling.

            The she-wolf barked harshly, and Pitch growled, the sound low and menacing. As the pack watched, Kamaria looked her opponent over, obviously trying to determine how he would fight. Pitch’s new form was lithe but still fairly well-muscled; built for agility. When the she-wolf circled closer she could see that his fur, darker than any midnight, was sleek and clean.

            _Not for much longer,_ thought Kamaria as she lunged forward. Pitch clawed at her, forcing her back, before he made a lunge of his own. They tumbled into the grass, the crowd’s yelling barely reaching their ears as the two of them fought. Snapping and clawing at each other, the wolves wrestled, each trying to avoid being pinned down by the other.

            Kamaria finally managed to land a good scratch across Pitch’s muzzle, and he yelped in surprise, his momentary distraction giving her time to lunge for his throat. However, he swiped at her at the last second, knocking her head to the side before her fangs could reach him, and retaliated with a lunge of his own. His jaw closed around the she-wolf’s shoulder, and he swiftly jerked his head to the side, forcing her down. Baring his fangs threateningly, Pitch swiftly moved his forepaws to her chest, keeping her still. When she squirmed under his weight, he dug his claws in, making the she-wolf yelp briefly. Then she slowly stilled and bared her throat, and the crowd grew even louder in their cheering as Pitch let Kamaria up.

She painfully shifted back to human form, hissing with discomfort as she pulled her robe on but waving away offers of help just the same. Then she turned back to Pitch.

“Howl.” She suggested, a tiny smile still on her lips. When he did, the rest of the pack joined in without a second thought, and so did she.

Pitch changed back as soon as the howl ended, once again dissolving into shadows before taking a solid form and drawing his shadowy robe around him as if it had appeared from nowhere. He grudgingly dealt with the pats on the back and other such congratulations from the werewolves, bringing a hand to his face and frowning at the bloody claw mark he felt there. It had already begun to heal, and Pitch knew it wasn’t important seeing as it would be gone by tomorrow anyway, but Pitch didn’t enjoy having a bleeding scratch across his nose and cheek.

“You’re pack now, so you can come back sometime, I suppose.” Kamaria said with mock nonchalance, a playful glint in her eye.

“Maybe I will.” Pitch shrugged, also feigning indifference. These wolves were obviously good allies to have, even if they were only mortal. Pack meant loyalty, and loyalty was hard to come by. Pitch wondered if he might have any chance of luring one of the Guardians into the wolves’ clutches. The best would be Bunnymund. Pitch inwardly grinned at the idea.

“Until next time, then.” Kamaria nodded a curt farewell before retreating into the woods, her kin close behind. Pitch slipped away through the shadows, returning to his home underground, where the more obedient of his Nightmares awaited their orders for the night.

 

* * * *

 

Pitch visited the pack eight times in the next four months, and watched the fights each time. Though the pack dynamics were ever changing, Kamaria almost always won her fights and remained Alpha female. Those first few times he visited it was for the fear that accompanied the fights, then to have a bit of conversation with someone other than his Nightmares. Kamaria was an amusing person to talk to. But the fifth and sixth months he was too busy regaining control of unruly Nightmares that had decided to revolt again, and when Pitch finally returned to the clearing in March, he noticed the she-wolf’s absence right away.

“Kamaria’s at the den.” A young Omega informed him upon realizing who Pitch was searching for.

“You have a _den_?” Pitch asked dubiously, and the Omega grinned.

“Yeah. It’s really more like a camp, but we call it the den even though it’s not.”

“Fascinating.” Pitch said sarcastically. “Where is this not-den of yours?”

“I’ll show you.” The boy motioned for Pitch to follow him, and both left the crowd behind. They walked for almost twenty minutes before reaching the den, which, as the Omega had explained, wasn’t really a den at all.

It was a bunch of makeshift tents that the wolves had made themselves, built at the base of a cliff so that it wasn’t completely exposed. As they walked through the camp, Pitch spotted many tents that had been made to serve a certain purpose; there was an infirmary, and a sort of kitchen, although Pitch didn’t think the pack used the kitchen very often. Most of the other tents were living quarters, strewn with blankets and sheets and the occasional pile of dirty laundry.

“Why don’t you just live in town?” Pitch inquired, sniffing distastefully at the uncleanliness of it all.

“Some packs do that, but we like it out here.” The Omega shrugged. “It gives us more freedom to be ourselves. If we lived with humans we’d have to make ourselves look human in order to fit in. But that’s not who we are.”

Pitch hummed a noncommittal response as the boy led him into one of the larger tents, where a few other Omegas and about fifteen pups were play-wrestling. Four women sat contentedly near the sidelines, Kamaria among them. When she saw Pitch she grinned, slowly standing and shrugging off the thick blankets she’d had pulled around her shoulders, revealing the sweat pants and too-big T-shirt she wore underneath.

“Kamaria…” Pitch trailed off, his jaw dropping open, then he quickly shook off his surprise and forced himself to close his mouth.

“Surprised?” Kamaria laughed cheerfully, but there was an underlying trace of fear in her mind even as she grinned at him. Her hands moved instinctually to her pregnant belly as she stepped to the side, gesturing for Pitch to come and sit down with her. The other she-wolves scooted over a few inches to make more room.

“How far along…?” Pitch wondered aloud, wondering how he could have missed something like this during his last visit. Kamaria didn’t seem to mind the question.

“Almost four months, but for us wolves that’s pretty far along.” She smiled. “Normal wolves average around two or three months, and humans average around nine; werewolves, just under six.”

“How many?” Pitch knew the pups were usually born in litters just like normal wolves.

“We think four.” Kamaria grinned, looking down at her bulging stomach affectionately.

“They’re Lucas’s?” Pitch asked pointlessly, referring to Kamaria’s mate and fellow Alpha. Kamaria nodded, but the movement was slow and unsure at first. Pitch felt that tiny fear from before resurface in Kamaria’s mind, and he frowned slightly at what he now could guess it meant.

 

* * * *

 

            “Leave them alone, Lucas.” Kamaria pleaded, her tone equal parts defiance and desperation. The Alpha male didn’t listen to her, stepping forward with his fangs bared in a warning growl and looking around Kamaria at what she was guarding. His fur bristled angrily at the sight of his mate’s bastard pups. The five of them whimpered pitifully, cowering from their Alpha with their tails between their legs. At just over ten months old, the little pups didn’t understand enough to know exactly what was going on. But they knew that Alpha had found out something bad, and that Mama was afraid of Alpha right now, so that was enough understanding for them.

            Lucas snapped at his mate, who, despite being in human form, snapped right back. She made sure to keep herself directly between Lucas and her pups, keeping him from leaping at them as he so obviously wanted to. Afraid for her pups’ safety, Kamaria forced herself to push her terror away, trying one last time to reason with her mate.

            “Their father was Keiran, and he’s gone, remember? He left the pack. There’s no reason for you to hurt them, Lucas. They’re _my_ pups, by pack law they can be yours too.” She reasoned, although for a man like Lucas to raise her pups wasn’t the best thought. Still, it was better than the alternative.

            The Alpha didn’t even stop to consider her words, continuing his approach even as other pack members entered the tent, watching nervously. No one wanted to go against their Alpha, especially when the problem was between him and his mate, but killing pups for their parents’ crimes seemed a bit much.

            Deciding that enough was enough, Lucas lunged, and Kamaria’s terror returned even stronger than before as he leapt through the air toward her. Just before they collided, however, a lithe black wolf barreled into Lucas’s side, knocking him from the air.

Pitch growled menacingly at the larger wolf, who growled back just as threateningly. Careful to stay facing Lucas, Pitch glanced over his shoulder just long enough to bark a short order to Kamaria. The message was clear: _Run._

“I can’t! I can’t get all of them away.” Kamaria took a deep breath as she came to a decision. “But you can.”

Pitch looked at her bewilderedly, which gave Lucas all the time he needed to make a leap for the smaller wolf. The two of them tumbled to the ground, snapping and clawing more violently than any of the fights in the clearing. This wasn’t about sport and dominance, it was about blood.

“Pitch! Take them to safety. _Now_!” Kamaria ordered before shrugging her clothes off and shifting. She leapt at Lucas, and Pitch stepped back from the fight, swirling into shadows before reemerging in his normal humanoid form.

He wanted to leap back into the fray, to keep safe the only person who he considered anything close to family, but one look at Kamaria’s shivering pups told him it might be better to do as he was told. He didn’t have any time to think it over, for Kamaria fell beside him with a strangled yelp, shifting even though it pained her. Shivering weakly, she coughed up blood, the deep bite marks on her throat oozing red as well. She took a deep breath, but that only made her cough more. Turning her gaze to Pitch, she gave him a determined scowl.

“Keep my pups _safe_.” She ordered. It wasn’t a dramatic request or a desperate plea, it was a firm but simple order. A command from an Alpha to her second that was drowning in blood but somehow still left no room for argument. Pitch nodded curtly, trying to fight back the all-too-human grief already building inside of him. He replaced it with anger that he turned on Lucas, and as the Alpha once again went to attack the pups, Pitch loosed a dark arrow of nightmare sand. Lucas fell, the arrow through his throat.

By now the other pack members had either fled or shifted, unsure whether they should be fighting. Pitch didn’t give them time to decide, not wasting a second before he escaped through the shadows, bringing Kamaria’s pups along with him.

Kamaria waited until she saw them leave to close her eyes.

 

* * * *

 

            The pups didn’t know what to think of this shadow-stranger. He looked mean and sharp like Alpha, but didn’t smell much like a wolf, and he was gentle with them like Mama, so the befuddled pups eventually decided he was nice enough.


	2. Snippets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few random glimpses into Pitch's life with the pups and how other spirits (including the Guardians) play into it.

“Despite what you seem to believe, I am _not,_ in fact, a jungle gym.” Pitch said flatly, trying to detach a young boy from his back as they made their way down one of the dark corridors of their home. The boy giggled, wrapping his arms tighter around Pitch’s neck. “Nearly six years old and still unaware that I’m not a playground, are you sure you can see properly, Aaron?”

“Yep. I can even see better than Lexi.” Aaron said proudly, blowing his golden-orange curls out of his eyes.

“Cannot!” Protested a young girl as she leapt from a nearby ledge, landing in Pitch’s arms and almost causing him to fall backwards. Her hair, the same bright curls as her brother, swung back and forth around her face as she scrambled up to swing from Pitch’s arm. Indeed, the children both seemed to think of him as a jungle gym; as did their other siblings, as became apparent when Pitch rounded a corner only to be met with three small battle cries. Two kids latched themselves onto Pitch’s ankles, while the third grabbed the arm that Lexi wasn’t clinging to. They were careful not to use their claws _too_ much.

Pitch sighed exasperatedly, unable to move now that he had almost a half dozen five-year-olds stuck to him like limpets. The kids all giggled, even Neona, who didn’t usually do the whole giggling thing. Five sets of bright gold eyes turned on Pitch, as if waiting for what he might do, and after another failed attempt at prying Aaron off of his back, Pitch knelt down in a crouch so that the kids’ feet all touched the floor. Then he dissolved into the shadows, leaving the kids behind him as he reemerged a few yards away. Crying out indignantly, the five of them ran to tackle him again, but Pitch slipped into shadows again and again, always staying just far enough ahead of them that they couldn’t grab him.

“I’m hungry.” Tristan complained after a while, pulling on his getting-to-be-too-short shirt sleeves. Pitch frowned slightly at the children’s clothes. Why did kids have to grow so much? He already had an entire small room-turned closet full of outfits he’d had to get for the kids over the years, and now it seemed he would need to go out for new clothes _again._ Pitch shuddered at how human parents must feel, having to spend actual valuable money on clothes for their children.

“Piiitch.” Lexi whined, reminding him of the issue at hand. “We’re hungry.”

“Then let’s go find something to eat.” Pitch picked the girl up and headed off in the direction of the kitchen, one more thing he’d had no need of before he “adopted” the pups. He’d filled the kitchen with stolen food from supermarkets, mostly canned and dried things; just anything that wouldn’t go bad before the pups ate it. The lair was cold, but not quite refrigerator cold, and Pitch didn’t want spoiled food in his home. Many times a week he’d go and find actual meals to nab, mostly for breakfasts, seeing as the kids needed nutrition and couldn’t eat just canned fruit, but whenever he could get away with it a few cans of cold potato soup and some crackers was the basic idea of dinner.

“Can we have pizza?” Asked Neona eagerly, jumping so that her jet-black hair bounced up and down and nibbling on her shirt sleeve as she often did when she was excited.

“Yeah, pizza!” Lexi agreed, and soon all five of them were shouting for pizza. Pitch groaned inwardly, holding a hand up for silence.

“If I go get you pizza tonight will you go to bed _on time_ for once?” He asked them, crossing his arms over his chest. The kids all nodded without a second thought. “Fine. What kind of pizza?”

“Sausage.” Neona said definitively.

“No! Pepperoni’s better.” Tristan said matter-of-factly, ignoring his sister’s glare.

“Sausage!” Aaron high-fived Neona, while Lexi latched onto Tristan with a warrior’s cry of, “Pepperoni!”

“Sausage.” Solstice commented, brushing her dark hair away from her eyes then crossing her arms like that was final. Lexi looked like she was about to go off on a tirade, so Pitch stepped in before the hellions got into a fight.

“Sausage it is.” He pretended not to hear the annoyed groans and triumphant shouts. “Wait for me here, and no cookies until after dinner.”

“Yes, Pitch.” Five little voices said with a suspicious amount of innocence.

“Onyx!” The kids hurried to get out of the way when Pitch’s Nightmare galloped into the room. “Watch the kids. Make sure they don’t eat anything sugary.” Pitch ordered Onyx, who snorted irritably at having been made the babysitter. She’d get over it. She always did.

Pitch slipped off into the shadows, making his way to Burgess, where a small pizza restaurant was always filled with customers. Pitch waited in the corner until someone ordered a sausage pizza, which wasn’t very much longer than a half hour, then waited for it to be made. Once the pizza had been placed on the counter, waiting to be brought home to whatever customer’s house, Pitch let it drop into the shadows right into his hands, then brought it back with him to his lair.

 _Of course,_ Pitch thought irately at the sight of Onyx standing lazily by the wall while the kids helped themselves to Oreos from the cupboard. Onyx had been diligent about watching the pups up until recently, but sometime last month she’d gotten fed up and just stopped caring.

“Dinner.” He said curtly, placing the pizza box on the black kitchen table, and the five kids jumped at his sudden appearance, all trying to hide the package of Oreos behind them even as they tried to stuff more cookies in their mouths. He held one hand out, palm up, and Solstice hung her head, handing him the Oreo container before following her siblings as they scrambled up into their chairs to eat dinner. And if Pitch ate one or two cookies before putting the box away then no one had to know that, now did they?

Neona, as always, swiftly became frustrated with her pizza and ended up sticking her claws through it in order to make the huge slice easier to hold. Lexi and Aaron didn’t bother, although perhaps they should have judging by the amount of sauce on their chins by the end of the meal. Solstice and Tristan, wise beyond their years when it came to the fine art of pizza-eating, were the only ones who emerged from dinner without being in desperate need of a bath. Though Tristan had somehow managed to get a few dots of red sauce into his gold-ish hair, and that would have to be taken care of before it dried.

The bathroom was another thing Pitch hadn’t any need of before. Now the huge black tub was put to good use every night, though the pups despised their nightly bath-time and did everything in their power to avoid it. Pitch had found himself having to work harder to trick them into the tub as time went on.

“Finished?” He asked when the majority of the pizza was gone. The pups nodded slowly; they knew what was coming. “Then let’s go get you into the bath.”

“No!” Protested Lexi at the top of her lungs, glaring at her guardian angrily.

“Yes.” Pitch scooped up the girl into his arms, planting a tiny seed of fear in each of the cubs’ minds. “Or perhaps I should just leave you to the goblin.”

“The goblin?” Aaron inquired.

“What goblin?” Solstice asked dubiously, narrowing her eyes in disbelief.

“He’s a very dangerous goblin who’s lived here almost as long as I have.” Pitch started dramatically. “He has needle-sharp teeth and giant owl’s wings.”

“Why would a goblin have owl wings?” Tristan rolled his eyes.

“Because owls are the quietest of flyers. With owl wings the goblin can sneak up on his prey.” Pitch stated as if it were obvious, watching the kids’ eyes grow wide.

“W-what does the goblin eat?” Aaron murmured worriedly.

“He only eats disobedient pups. The ones who don’t…” Pitch paused for effect, coaxing the pups’ fear to grow. And it did; even Solstice looked uncertain now, and darkness only knew how difficult it was to frighten the girl naturally.

“T-the ones who don’t w-w-what?” Lexi whispered, her voice shaking and her eyes wide as she clung to Pitch’s robe for protection.

“The ones who _don’t_ _take_ _baths_.” Pitch finished, and the children all squealed with fear, leaping from their chairs to join in on Lexi’s hanging-on-to-Pitch-for-dear-life plan.

“Don’t let the goblin get us!” Neona squeaked. Burying her face in Pitch’s robes, the young she-wolf dug her claws into the shadowy fabric.

“If you don’t want him to get you then we’ll have to hurry to the bath tub.” Pitch encouraged, herding the children out of the kitchen and down the dank corridor. “Keep an eye out for the goblin.”

“’Kay, Pitch.” Muttered Neona solemnly.

The five pups slunk as silently as they could down the hallway, claws out and eyes wary as they glanced around corners, looking for the werewolf-eating goblin. Smirking as he walked behind them, Pitch opened the door to the bathroom and helped the pups undress, then dropped them each into the hot-tub sized bubble bath. The kids quickly scrubbed themselves clean, and as each clambered out of the tub they were handed a fluffy black towel that they wrapped themselves in immediately.

The pups dried themselves off and followed Pitch to their closet, tripping over their towels the whole way. After helping them into their pajamas, Pitch took the kids to the door of their bedroom, which was as far as he could go; he’d created protective wards around the room to keep Nightmares and fearlings away from the pups at night, but the wards kept the Boogieman himself out as well.

He said goodnight, closed the door, and was on his way.

 

* * * *

 

            A pair of silver-gold eyes peered out from a dark alleyway, glowering condescendingly at the tendrils of floating golden sand passing them by before slinking away. Pitch had been out for not even an hour when the Sandman had shown up, chasing him off and changing Pitch’s beautiful Nightmares into mindless golden dreams. Scowling, the Nightmare King turned away from Sanderson’s incessant glow and retreated further into the darkness of the alley.

            He intended to go back to his lair, but he didn’t get four steps before a well-known pain wrapped around his ankle, dragging his feet out from under him. The side of his head met the pavement with a crack and the dreamsand whip retreated.

            _‘Pitch.’_ The Sandman greeted, his voice toneless and genderless, understood clearly without using any known language.

            “What do you want, Sanderson?” Pitch snarled as he sat up, rubbing his head while he glared at the Sandman, who looked ever-so-slightly apologetic. The little man gestured to Pitch’s head with a remorseful grimace. “Like you didn’t know what you were doing.” Pitch muttered.

            _‘You’ve been so quiet the last few years,’_ Sandy stated, his thoughts projecting themselves into Pitch’s mind as they always did (and poking around Pitch’s own thoughts less discreetly than Sanderson probably realized). _‘The Guardians thought you might’ve given up.’_

“On what, survival?” The Boogieman replied as he stood and brushed himself off. “Of course not. I was just…preoccupied.”

            Putting up mental blocks to keep Sandy out of his memories, Pitch kept his pups as far out of mind as he could, feeding Sanderson fake thoughts to keep the golden man from becoming suspicious. A narrowing of the Sandman’s eyes told Pitch that it wasn’t working.

            _‘Because all sorts of things are more important to you than terrorizing kids.’_ Sandy thought sarcastically. Pitch practically growled, a habit he’d picked up from being around werewolves so long.

            “You’d be surprised.” He grumbled irritably, stepping backwards as the Sandman approached him. Summoning the shadows closer to him, the Nightmare King stepped back again so that he was no longer in the light. As Sanderson lunged at him, trying to keep him from leaving, Pitch let himself fall backwards into the dark.

 

_ Two Years Later: _

 

“Can we go hunting tonight?” Lexi asked as she entered the Cage Room. The Cage Room was where the pups could usually find their Alpha, and was filled with huge cages and one shiny globe that Pitch glared at a lot. But he’d never tell the pack why he hated the glowy-globe so much. Lexi thought maybe he just didn’t like how shiny it was. “We haven’t been outside in like a gazillion years.”

            “I was unaware that two weeks equated to a gazillion years.” Pitch replied without looking up. He was examining a funny thing in a jar when the seven-year-old approached.

            “What’s that?” Lexi inquired curiously. Pitch lowered the jar so that his littlest pup could see inside. A tiny green-ish person with pointy ears peered back at her angrily, chittering in a language Lexi couldn’t understand. When she smelled it, its scent was that of river moss. “What is it?” Lexi asked again, scrunching her nose up.

            “A pixie.” Pitch curled his lip in disgust at the little fae. “It followed one of the Nightmares home last night.”

            “I don’t like it; it smells funny.” Lexi stated simply. Her Alpha’s mouth twitched for a half-second into what might’ve been a smile. “So can we go hunting tonight?”

            “Go get your brothers and sisters.” Pitch sighed. The little girl grinned, then scampered off to find her siblings. Pitch waited until he couldn’t hear her footsteps anymore to open the jar. The pixie leapt out gracefully, but was caught by a shadowy hand and held tightly around the middle while the Nightmare King _tsked_ at it.

            “Now then, we can’t have you running off now that you know of my little ones.” Pitch chuckled, the sound menacing enough to send shivers down the fae’s spine, and scooped it up to pet the side of its face with one grey finger. “I know how much you pixies love to _gossip_.”

            He snapped the creature’s neck in one smooth movement. His face was cold and emotionless as he tossed the body to the ground. Fearlings swarmed the corpse in seconds; they left nary but a few scattered bones.

 

_ Two More Years Later: _

 

“Before we go out we must go over the rules.” Pitch clasped his hands behind his back and looked at each of the pups in turn. Neona rolled her eyes at him but didn’t protest.

“Don’t shift until we’re sure no one is around.” Solstice counted on her fingers as she continued. “Avoid the human town. Don’t let any spirits see us entering the lair or an Enemy could find out. No bringing back dead animals because the Fearlings will take them.”

“Good.” Pitch nodded, noting the nine-year-old’s proud grin. “And what do we do if we see an Enemy?” He’d taken to calling the Guardians that when the pups were little; he was sure the Guardians would all have conniptions if they ever found out, but them finding out had never been a pleasant thought so Pitch avoided it as much as possible.

“We run.” Tristan sniffed in distaste, he’d much rather fight Enemies than run from them, and Neona’s echoing sniff told him that his sister agreed.

“But not back home because the Enemies might follow us.” Lexi added, pointing toward Pitch. “We howl for you so you can distract them.”

“Exactly.” Pitch nodded again.

“But why can’t we fight? If the Enemies hate you so much then why shouldn’t we fight them?” Neona asked irritably.

“Because they are more powerful than even me,” Pitch admitted with a scowl. “And I will not risk them hurting you.”

“But what if we’re all together and we only see one of them?” Neona tried.

“No.” The Nightmare King said stubbornly.

“But-”

“No!” Pitch roared, drawing the shadows around himself as he changed shape. He grew into a huge shifting shadow-creature, with eight gold eyes and two clawed arms held threateningly above the pups. “I am your Alpha and you will do as I say!” The pups looked fairly unimpressed by his theatrics. They’d seen this dramatic show of anger enough times to be used to it, but Neona shut up anyway out of respect for her Alpha.

 

_ Four **More** Years Later: _

 

Jack opened one sleepy eye at the sound of approaching footsteps, peering down from the tree he was in as he watched a young wolf pad towards him. The creature’s nose was sniffing at the air, but its golden eyes were fixed on Jack. They seemed to glow in the moonlight, making it look creepier than an adolescent wolf ought to be.

The frost spirit frowned. Wolves almost never came this close to Burgess, and when they did it didn’t end well for anyone. Floating down to land on the brittle autumn grass, Jack shot a blast of blue sparks at the wolf’s front paws. The animal startled but didn’t run, its dark fur bristling as it stalked closer. It growled at Jack, who sent another shock of frost lightning at it in return. This time it backed away, sending him one last snarl before it hurried away through the trees.

A small bit of what looked like glitter fell out of the wolf cub’s fur, and the curious winter sprite summoned a small gust of wind to get it out of the grass. The shining particles condensed into a penny-sized pile and landed on Jack’s palm, and his frown returned.

He closed his hand into a fist, called for the wind, and was speeding towards North’s workshop in seconds, a few stray grains of Nightmare sand slipping between his fingers as he went.

 

* * * *

 

            “Why didn’t you call for me?” Pitch growled (again).

            “Because it was just Frost.” Neona growled back ( _again_ ). The Boogeyman and the she-wolf glared at each other from either side of the doorway while the rest of the litter looked on. The thirteen-year-olds had always been careful to follow the rules laid out for them by their pseudo-father, except for Neona, who was always careful to break whatever rules she could.

            “We’ve been talking about this since you were six,” The Nightmare King pressed his palms against his closed eyelids in a useless defense against the growing headache behind his eyes. “ _All_ of them are dangerous.”

            “Even the ‘idiotic frost sprite’?” Quoted Aaron. Pitch’s glare switched from Neona to her brother, but Aaron only smirked. From the doorway of the pups’ bedroom, Pitch could only curse his decision to ever put Fearling-proof wards down.

            “ _Especially_ the idiotic frost sprite.” With that Pitch stalked away, down the hall and presumably back to the Cage Room.

 

* * * *

**__ **

            “North, are you in there?” Jack knocked on North’s office door with the end of his staff. There was a great crash from inside, and a string of Russian curses, then the door opened to reveal a very aggravated-looking North.

            “Ah, Jack. What brings you here?” The toymaker asked cheerily. Jack sidestepped past the larger man to avoid getting a bone-crushing hug, floating into the office to North’s desk.

            “This.” The younger Guardian opened his fist and let the Nightmare sand fall onto the desk. North’s expression grew serious as he approached.

            “From Nightmare?” He wondered aloud, but Jack shook his head.

            “From a _wolf_.” The boy corrected. Jack told North of his encounter outside Burgess. “What do you think it was?”

            “It could have been many things. Maybe normal wolf that thought it fun to chase Nightmare, could have been new form of Nightmare itself…” North shrugged.

            “It had sand in its fur, but it wasn’t _made_ of Nightmare sand.” Jack replied, blue eyes squinting in concentration. “It did have the coloring of a Nightmare, though; dark fur and gold eyes.”

            “I will tell other Guardians of this, but I’m sure it is nothing to worry about.” North assured him. Jack wasn’t so sure, but he nodded just the same.

           

* * * *

 

The Guardians all kept wary eyes out for any more “Nightmare wolves”, but after a few months had gone by without any sightings, the incident was written off and forgotten about. The Guardians all kept wary eyes out for any more “Nightmare wolves”, but after a few months had gone by without any sightings, the incident was written off and forgotten about. The Guardians stopped looking, and eventually Pitch started letting the kids go out more often again, provided they remember the rules. There were no further incidents with 'the Enemies'. Until, of course, the pups decided they just  _had_ to see the human town.

 


	3. A Series of Less than Fortunate Incidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The now-teenaged pups think that they're old enough to go shopping for new clothes by themselves, Pitch thinks that is a terrible idea, and Jamie Bennett thinks that he's too old for this crap.
> 
> Then shit happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I let this go so long without an update. :( Real life happened and I kind of forgot about a lot of my fics until a few days ago, but I promise i'll try to keep regular updates and get a couple of my other fics updated too...hopefully it'll be easier without all the craziness that was 2013. :)

            “Oh, come on. Please?”

            “No.”

            “ _Pleeeease_?” Neona wheedled, holding tightly to Pitch’s arm and making her best “puppy dog” face. Pitch glared at her.

            “I said no.” He replied. The sixteen-year-old pouted even more pitifully, whining to add to the effect, but her Alpha remained adamant. “You’re not going into Burgess.”

            “Why not?” Tristan piped up from where he was stretched out on the stone floor alongside his siblings. (Sometimes Pitch wondered if his influence on the wolves had turned them part cat as well.) “We’d be going out during the day, so it isn’t like the Sandman or the fairies will be out.”

            “And even if any spirits did see us, they’d probably just think we were human.” Aaron added. The Boogeyman frowned, but he knew from over fifteen years’ experience that the pups wouldn’t leave him alone until he agreed.

            “Bathe and get dressed, we can’t have you going up there looking like homeless ruffians.”

“Seriously?” Lexi grinned hopefully. With a nod, Pitch waved them off, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to ignore the headache he felt coming on. He was going to regret this.

 

* * * *

 

“We only have an hour, remember, so no messing around.” Solstice reminded her siblings as the five of them approached the clothing store Pitch had directed them to. Lexi and Neona were both practically bouncing with excitement, but Neona had a terrifying grin on her face, one she’d likely learned from Pitch, and Solstice worried that this trip would be more trouble than it was worth.

“Got it.” Tristan replied. “One hour to shop, then we go back home.”

“Right. Does everyone have the money Pitch gave us?” Solstice double-checked, and they all held up the green paper that apparently passed for valuable in the human world.

“Stole for us, you mean; right out of the wallet of some stupid human.” Aaron corrected with a grin. Solstice glared at him.

“Be nice. Without humans there wouldn’t be any werewolves.” She reminded, and Aaron rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. This was the first time any of them had actually used the sunglasses Pitch had provided them; they didn’t generally go out during the day.

“Yeah, I know. I’m not five.” He muttered, pretending not to notice his sister’s mockingly sweet smile.

The five of them entered the store, somewhat relieved that the light inside was not as bright as the sunlight, then split up to look for new clothes that would fit them. Pitch had explained the sizes and fitting rooms and how to pay for the clothes they wanted, information he’d mostly gotten from watching humans, so the wolves had an idea of what they were doing even though they were new to it.

Neona went straight to a rack of sweatshirts, trying to find one with sleeves long enough to cover her hands. She’s grown out of her favorite jacket last year and Pitch had never stolen her a new one, the lair was always cold, and she didn’t like having to wear gloves; plus if she had long sleeves she could slap her brothers and sisters with them. Grinning as she picked out a dark grey hoodie, Neona felt _something_ latch onto her leg and turned her head to look at it, baring her fangs on instinct before quickly hiding them again. The leg-grabbing thing turned out to be a small child, barely out of toddlerhood, and Neona growled at it, hoping it would go away. It only giggled and pointed up at her with one hand.

“Puppy! Woof, woof!” The little girl exclaimed, her dark brown hair covering one eye, and Neona made a shushing noise, scowling at the kid just like Pitch would so often scowl at _her_.

“Oh, look at you!” Lexi approached, almost squealing at the tiny human. “You’re such a cute little thing.”

“Get it off of me.” Neona ordered, and her sister bent down to pick up the child, bouncing the girl in her arms until the kid laughed.

“Emma!” A man probably somewhere in his early twenties ran up to them, grinning apologetically as he lifted the little girl—Emma—out of Lexi’s arms and into his own. The girl went happily, babbling to him about puppies.

“Daddy!” The kid pouted when he went to say something to Lexi and Neona. She smacked her tiny hands against his chest, demanding his attention.

“What?” The man asked with half-faked annoyance, looking down at Emma, who pointed eagerly towards Neona.

“Puppy!” She announced again, and Lexi shot her sister a panicked glance. The man only laughed, though, and shook his head.

“No, she’s not a puppy.” He ignored the kid’s protests and adjusted her in his arms so he could hold one hand out to Neona. “Sorry about her, she runs off every time I turn around.”

“It’s fine.” Lexi answered for her sister, smiling politely. “Hi, I’m Lexi.”

            “Why do you have to be so friendly?” Neona muttered under her breath, so low only her sister could hear her.

“My name’s Jamie.” The man smiled. “Jamie Bennett. And you know Emma, obviously.”

Neona and Lexi both froze at the man’s name; Pitch had warned them about Jamie Bennett at a young age. Jamie Bennett, the defeater of Nightmares. An ally of Pitch’s Enemies.

“Jamie, are you and Emma ready to go?” A young woman asked as she walked up to the group, planting a quick kiss on Jamie’s lips.

“Yeah, we are.” Jamie replied cheerfully. The three of them started to walk away, but Jamie turned around to say goodbye, helping Emma wave at Neona and Lexi as well. Lexi waved back, grin still in place, but as soon as the family was a few rows away she turned to her sister with an expression half way between anger and terror. Neona simply went back to shopping.

            “Pitch is going to be so mad at you.” Lexi stated, then retreated to the back of the store to keep shopping. Neona didn’t react, and neither sister noticed when Jamie turned around at the sound of that barely-heard name, watching them warily for a moment before speeding up to catch up to his wife.

 

* * * *

 

“She _what_?” Pitch growled threateningly, and Solstice shrugged in a sort of ‘what are you gonna do’ motion before heading off with the huge bag of clothes they’d bought. Tristan, Lexi, and Aaron followed closely behind her, not wanting to be left in the Cage Room without her voice of reason there. Neona tried to run after them but was grabbed around her middle by shadows and suspended in the air in front of Pitch.

“Really?” She asked with a scowl.

“Yes, really.” He snarled back. “Why is it that you manage to run into both spirits _and_ humans that we’d all rather you avoid?”

“This time wasn’t my fault, to be fair. Not like when I found Frost, or hunted a nest of brownies, or…” The wolf trailed off at the irritated look on Pitch’s face. “Yeah I’ll stop talking now.”

“What would happen if our young mister Bennett heard you say my name? Or talk about being a werewolf? What would happen if he decided to tell Frost or one of the other Enemies about you?” Pitch released Neona from the shadows but kept a wall of darkness over the door so she couldn’t walk out.

“Okay, first of all, I’m not stupid, why would you think we would talk about being wolves? Second of all, I _did_ growl at Jamie’s kid, but _Jamie_ didn’t see me. And Lexi was the only one to say your name aloud, so if we get attacked or kidnapped and you want to blame someone, blame her. Not me.”

“Have all of you just come to an agreement to make my life as difficult as you possibly can?” Pitch sighed exasperatedly, not doing anything to stop Neona when she walked away. He mulled over what she’d told him, though, about Jamie Bennett having a child now. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised; it wasn’t like he expected the Last Light to stay a boy forever. But still…eighteen years didn’t seem very long for someone as old as the Nightmare King.

 

* * * *

 

            Touching down in the backyard of Jamie and Pippa’s house, Jack grinned as he saw the back door wing open, Emma running outside with her father close behind, trying to get a hat on the energetic girl. Jack put down his staff, scooping Emma up in both arms and spinning her around as she shrieked with glee. It had been hard watching Jamie grow up, and all his other first believers, too, but when it became clear that with how often he visited they couldn’t forget about him, he felt a bit better. The frost spirit had become close with all of them over the years.

            “Hey, kiddo!” Jack laughed as he stopped spinning Emma. The girl giggled and leaned closer, moving her mouth to his ear like she always did when she wanted to tell him a secret.

            “Daddy an’ me saw a puppy at da store.” She whispered.

            “A puppy?” Jack whispered back, eyes wide in mock-surprise. Emma nodded excitedly.

            “Not a puppy, a teenager.” Jamie sighed in amusement. “Two teenage girls found Emma when she ran off in the store yesterday.”

            “And Emma thinks they’re puppies?” Jack asked, glancing in puzzlement at the little girl.

            “Just the one, I think.” Jamie shrugged, but his expression was quickly becoming uncertain, as if he had something else to say but wasn’t sure whether he should. “I thought I heard one of them say Pitch’s name, though.”

            “What?” Jack perked up, frowning slightly.

            “When we were walking away from those girls, one of them said ‘Pitch is going to be mad at you’…or something like that. Probably nothing, but I thought I should tell you just in case it turns out to be a problem.” Jamie shrugged again, the movement tense.

            “I’ll talk to Pitch the next time I find him, to see if we can get any more info.” Jack promised as he put Emma down in the grass.

            “And by talk I’m guessing you mean you’ll ice him to the nearest tree or building, then ask him questions and try to deduce the answers from whatever cryptic weirdness he tells you?”

            “Pretty much!” Jack laughed as he took off, waving goodbye to Jamie and Emma as he went.

           

* * * *

 

“Get me out of this right now, Frost!” Pitch yelled angrily at the winter sprite, who completely ignored him. Pitch struggled against the block of ice trapping him, but it wasn’t melting anytime soon, so for the time being the Boogeyman was stuck to a tree not a mile from his lair while Jack Frost ‘interrogated’ him.

“Why would a teenage girl who Jamie’s never met before know your name?” Jack asked, almost more to himself than to Pitch.

“How should I know?” The Nightmare King said indignantly, mentally cursing the girls for being so careless. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t only exist to your band of human friends.”

“Yeah but not a lot of people know you as more than just ‘the Boogeyman’.” Jack rationalized. He was oddly quiet and civil considering he’d frozen the other member of the conversation to a tree only moments ago.

Pitch tried summoning shadows to him, but they were slow; reluctant to move because of the bright moonlight shining directly into his face. _Really?_ Pitch glared at the Moon, then moved his attention back to Frost.

“Have you thought of the possibility that your Last Light didn’t simply mishear?” Pitch asked, smirking. _Stalling._ “He isn’t a child anymore, soon he’ll be past his prime. He’s aging without you.”

Jack flinched minutely, and Pitch grinned. It was always so easy to make people do that; you just had to know what to say.

“Jamie’s my friend.” Jack protested, not knowing what else to say. “It doesn’t matter that he’s getting a bit older.”

“‘A bit?’” Pitch mocked, keeping his eyes on Jack even as he finally got a Fearling to approach him. The thing discreetly started clawing at the ice trapping Pitch, trying to break it. “How old is he now, twenty-five? Twenty-seven? He’s almost a decade older than you, Jack, and how long can you keep pretending that he’s still a child?”

“Stop it. This isn’t about Jamie.” Jack glowered, but Pitch grinned, all needle-sharp teeth and malice.

“Will you still pretend when he’s forty? Fifty? When his _precious_ daughter grows up and has children of her own? Will you pretend when he’s an old man, too old to remember you ever existed? Will you still be able to pretend when he walks through you? When you end up visiting his _grave_?” As he spoke, Pitch searched out Jack’s fear, urging it to grow.

“Shut up!” Jack yelled, swinging his staff in a wide arc toward Pitch’s face. The Fearling, however, finished its work just in time, and Pitch summoned a scythe to block Jack’s swing. Unprepared, Jack staggered a step back, almost dropping his staff, and the Nightmare King swung his scythe back around, fully intending to slice the boy in half, but Jack ducked out of the way and knocked Pitch’s feet out from under him. Pitch went down, and was about to get a face full of ice when Jack was knocked down by a dark blur. _Nightmare,_ was Pitch’s initial thought, but then he heard the growling.

Neona growled lowly at Jack as she shifted back to human form, still pinning the frost sprite down with her claws and baring her fangs at him (tiny spots of blood began to stain around the holes her claws had poked in the boy’s hoodie). Jack was startled for a few moments, grimacing at the pain, but then his cheeks blushed bright red and he tried to look anywhere but at his attacker upon realizing that she had no clothes on. Good thing, too, Pitch might’ve murdered the boy if he’d tried anything. _Still might,_ Pitch thought.

Pitch conjured a robe of shadows, not unlike his own, to settle around Neona’s shoulders and hide her nudity, but the girl didn’t react, still pinning Jack. She glanced back at Pitch, waiting for her Alpha’s verdict, but he didn’t get a chance to give one, because suddenly Solstice was there too, her hand on his shoulder and her eyes disapproving. Reluctantly motioning for Neona to get up, Pitch grabbed both girls by the arm and ducked into the shadows, transporting them all home before Jack had even stood up.

“What were you _thinking_?” Pitch seethed at them, shadows writhing around him, and Neona opened her mouth to protest, but Solstice spoke first.

“Neona was sneaking out again, and I was trying to stop her.” Solstice explained. “We heard the fight and she wanted to help, so I followed.”

“Wow, way to throw me to the Fearlings.” Neona muttered irritably.

“I’m not!”

“To your room, _all_ of you.” Pitch glared at the three wolves watching from the doorway, and they ran off, Solstice dragging a trudging Neona behind them. _Damn it_ , Pitch thought. He’d known since the beginning that he couldn’t let the Guardians find out about the pups; any ally of Pitch’s was an enemy of the Guardians, and the Guardians were basically the Child Protective Services of the spirit world, Pitch wasn’t about to let them take _or_ threaten the only family he’d had in as long as he could remember.

 

* * * *

 

            Mother Nature stood at the mouth of the tunnel leading down to her father’s home, lips curled in a sad smile. She’d told him before, centuries ago, that she was his only child, “for good or ill,” (thought she knew he wouldn’t retain this memory, the Fearlings made him forget things and it was rare that he recognized her) so when she’d found out that he’d taken in a litter of werewolves she had been quick to anger. But he hadn’t tried to turn the pups into Fearlings, as she’d feared he would, and while in some ways Pitch had grown protective (perhaps even overly so) and more vicious than before in his attempts to keep his new family safe, the presence of the werewolf pups had lessened the Nightmare King’s interest in world domination attempts and long murderous schemes, and brought out more of Kozmotis Pitchiner than Mother Nature had seen in a very, very long time.

Turning to face the not-quite-full moon, she gave a quick nod of respect before heading into the woods, smiling when the moonbeams seemed to brighten slightly before dimming again.

 

* * * *

 

            “North!” Jack knocked on the front door of the workshop for what seemed like the millionth time, still unsure what he’d seen in the forest. There’d been a giant wolf _thing_ crashing into him but then it was a _girl_ instead of a wolf and she’d protected Pitch. He’d still been in shock when another girl showed up and Pitch grabbed them both and Jack was so confused…his trail of thought was lost when Phil opened the door, yelling at Jack, which was really nothing new. Phil was always yelling about something or other. Jack stepped around the yeti and took off, flying at full speed towards North’s office.

He swung the door open without knocking, already starting to explain as he ran into the room, but he quickly fell silent when he realized that North wasn’t in the room. Instead, Tooth was sitting hovering around North’s desk, fiddling with an ice sculpture which she swiftly put down when the door opened.

“Jack! What’re you doing here?” Tooth smiled, her eyes flashing excitedly when he opened his mouth. Eighteen years and she still loved looking at his teeth, Jack was pretty sure she would’ve hung pictures of them on her bedroom wall if someone gave her a camera.

“Looking for North.” Jack said, a bit bewildered. “I just fought with Pitch, and--”

“Pitch?” Toothiana’s feathers fluffed up agitatedly. “What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“No, no. I’m fine.” Jack tried to placate her, but the fairy queen frowned, looking him over carefully. Noticing the bloodstained holes in the fabric of his sweatshirt, Tooth fluttered forward, peering at them suspiciously. “I’m not that hurt, Tooth. Promise. I just had a run-in with Pitch’s new pet werewolf.”

“ _What_?!” Tooth’s eyes went wide. “Hoodie, off, now.”

“Tooth--”

“ _Now._ ”

Jack sighed and shrugged his hoodie off, letting the fairy look over his wounds, but they were barely more than pinpricks and had already started to scab over, so after a short examination to make sure he was alright, Tooth let him put his hoodie back on.

“Tooth, where’s North?” Jack asked, unsure why the man wasn’t there; eighty percent of the time Jack had ever been to North’s workshop, North would be holed up in his office imagining new toys for the yetis to make, and the rest of the time he was in the kitchen grabbing fruitcakes and other sweets to stash in his office.

“Oh, he’s visiting Santoff Claussen for the weekend, he should be back today that’s why I was here…” Tooth blushed slightly. “I was just waiting for him to get back, since usually all that welcomes him home is an overload of work that he’s missed.”

Jack nodded in understanding. He’d been invited to Santoff Claussen a few months after being made a Guardian, he’d met the other Guardians that lived there, and he’d continued to visit a couple times a year just to deliver a good snow day to the children there, but North visited way more often; about once every month.

“I’ll wait with you, then.” Jack plopped down into North’s chair and made himself at home. Tooth smiled.

 

* * * *

 

            Nicholas St. North considered himself a man not easily startled, but when he trudged from the train into the workshop up to his office, he expected a relaxing hour of ice sculpting, not to have two of his most energetic teammates talking to him at once.

            “Jack! Tooth! What are you doing here? You nearly gave me heart attack.” North chided, shooing Jack out of his chair so he could sit down.

            “Pitch has a werewolf. Possibly two.” Jack said. “I had a fight with him earlier that was actually mostly my fault, and out of nowhere this crazy naked werewolf girl attacks me and would probably have killed me if Pitch hadn’t called her off and now that I think about it she was probably the same wolf that had Nightmare sand in its fur a few years ago so who knows how long Pitch has been working with werewolves…and I’m guessing you need a bit more explanation than that.” Jack interrupted himself at North’s incredulous and perplexed expression.

            “That would probably be helpful.” North admitted. With a deep breath, Jack started his story over, telling Tooth and North both the whole story of his strange encounter with the Boogeyman and his newly discovered allies. When he’d finished speaking, Jack looked back and forth between his two friends, waiting to hear their thoughts.

            “I think that it would be good idea to watch, wait and see if Pitch makes move against us.” North said slowly, and Tooth nodded.

            “If you think that the same wolf you saw today was the one from a few years ago then maybe Pitch isn’t really planning anything,” The fairy started. “It doesn’t usually take him that long to execute a plan.”

            “Maybe he has finally learned patience,” North almost chuckled before growing serious again, “But I am hoping he will not use werewolves to attack.”

 

* * * *

 

            “So, now that the Enemies all probably know about us…” Tristan started, and Pitch mentally cringed at the idea of that, “…Do you think it would be better to attack them first than wait for them to attack us?”

            “That is a terrible idea.” Pitch drawled, focus split between Tristan and the tiny fae scuttling over Pitch’s hands. The thing was some kind of spider-fae, from Moonhaven probably. Its eight legs a blur as it tried to escape him, the humanoid torso pinched between two of Pitch’s nails painfully.

            “Can you just either let that poor thing go or kill it already?” Tristan sighed at him, and Pitch gladly complied, crushing the tiny fae’s skull, then dropping the corpse in disgust and wiping his fingers of the resulting bug-soup.

            “We’re not attacking first; that will just give them an actual reason to fight you and the others.” Pitch elaborated.

            “I’d rather give them a real reason than have them attack us for no reason at all.” Tristan frowned. Pitch frowned right back but didn’t say a word, walking out of the room and leaving Tristan to follow.

            “My answer is no.” Pitch growled. “And we won’t be going out hunting tomorrow night either; they’ll likely be keeping a close eye on this place for a while.”

            Tristan scowled, grumbling under his breath, but Pitch didn’t take the time to listen to what the teen was talking about. He continued walking, stopping finally at the “library”, which was really just a shelf full of stolen library books that the pups had read and re-read a dozen times (teaching them how to read had been a struggle all those years ago, especially since none of them had actually cared about reading at all except Solstice). Pitch picked out a random book from the shelf, flipping to the first page and beginning to read.

            “Pitch, you read that book last month.” Tristan deadpanned. The Boogeyman completely ignored him. Muttering as he walked away, Tristan wondered aloud; “And you wonder where Neona gets that from?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I tried my best to keep this new chapter canon-compliant with the fourth book, but it was always my headcanon that Pitch didn't remember anything about being Koz so I kind of found a loophole and said that he remembered sometimes but didn't remember anything most of the time. (for angsty fic writers this could end up being a circle of self-hate and angst and shit if you guys are interested in stealing this headcanon)  
> And also I didn't say Mother Nature's name at all because I wanted to be canon compliant with it but honestly Seraphina is so much better a name than Emily Jane to me?? (sorry!) (And either way, she probably won't be a recurring character, i just wanted to acknowledge her existence)


End file.
